


A Bed of Leaves

by Cain124



Series: We Build Our House In the Forest [4]
Category: Thor (Movies)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-06-26
Updated: 2016-01-17
Packaged: 2018-02-06 09:10:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,742
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1852522
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cain124/pseuds/Cain124
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Loki has returned from his ordeal and now that all are certain of his safety, Loki wishes to return to his friend. Not everyone is pleased that Loki has found solace in a mortal realm. Everything is changing, nothing can stay hidden forever.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Healing Waters

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys as usual I do not own any Marvel characters. This installment has some graphic stuff in it so I would like to warn you guys now that there could be a TRIGGER WARNING for some of you. Also Emerson is getting older and so the Ratings and content will reflect that.

Loki sat back against the marble wall of his bathing pool. Steam rose from the milky water, a mixture the healers had given him to help ease his physical pain, but there was little that could be done to end the terror of his dreams. He heard the doors of his chambers close with a metallic sound. There was only one figure in all of Asgard who would disturb him now. With his mother appeased by his late night visit to her weaving room and his father stoically concerned as usual, he had no doubt as to who was prowling around his bedroom. Loki sunk under the opal water for a moment to gather his thoughts. Lifting himself once again above the surface he saw his brother drag spindly wooden stool next the water’s edge. Loki laughed when the stool wobbled, almost splintering under Thor’s weight. Loki’s ribs ached and strained under the pressure; his laugh gave way to coughing and blood spattering across the creamy surface of the water.  Thor gritted his teeth, his knuckles white.

            “Brother,” Loki let his head rest lethargically against the marble once more. “You seem concerned.”

            “Of course I am concerned for you,” Thor scrubbed his beard with his hand. “You have been through a great ordeal, and seen much blood shed. Yet you refuse to take comfort in your family, your friends. We would all like to see you well and happily surrounded by those who could aid in your recovery.”

            “It would seem to me my brother, that you are here aiding in my recovery. This very moment you are with me, are you not?” Loki raised a single eyebrow with careful distain.

            “Do not play with me, brother.” Thor watched Loki as he closed his eyes his face a mask of serenity and had Thor not been paying such close attention he would have missed the grimace of pain flit over his brother’s features. “Is there nothing they can do for the pain? Surely there is an herb or a spell perhaps?”

            “There are a great many things that can be done for the pain.” Loki kept his eyes closed. “Too many of them that dull the mind or exhaust the body. I would rather the pain dear brother. It is much simpler to endure this than too…”

            Thor watched helpless as a Loki seized up in pain his lips curled back from his teeth.

            “Loki, stop this,” His voice filled with worry. “I will call the healers and they will give you something for the pain, to help you sleep.”

            “NO!” Loki pulled himself half out of the pool, his torso on display. His body dappled with bruises. Their edges a sickly yellow stretching beneath the water to his most tender areas, his hips almost blackened.

            “Brother?” Thor’s voice was barely than a breath. “What has been done to you? This is my doing. If only I had…”

            “If only you had what?” Loki pinned him with a withering look. “There is no use in your maudlin postulations now. What has been done is done. Now I would like to be left to my bath.”

            “Does she know?”

            “Does who know, Thor?”

            “Does your mortal know what you have been through?” Loki opened his mouth to speak, Thor stopped him. “Do not do me the disservice of lying to me. I have seen her. I have seen you with her.”

            “No.” Loki lowered himself back into the water resting his head against the curved marble, all of his strength suddenly sapped out of him. “She is young, this would only harden her heart against the universe and there is still so much wonder for her to see.”

            “She will always be young to us, brother.” Thor let his eyes fall to the floor. “Even when she dies, when her bones waste away to nothing she will still be young.”

            “What is your point?” Loki’s voice held sharpness Thor was unused to. “That I will out live her, that she is frail, that I can do nothing and love nothing that is not eventually destroyed. All of this I know.”

            “But…”

            “But, nothing!” Thor flinched away from Loki’s voice. “She is my friend Thor and I will not give that up. It would not be wise to try and take this from me. Even if you tell father I will find a way to get back to her.”

            “I would never tell father,” Thor stood and began pacing. “It is your place to pass your time as you wish, but do not let yourself suffer as you are now. Would your friendship not be better served if you were to rest and let your body mend? The healers say sleep can work magic no waking state can perform.”

            “Yes,” Loki gritted his teeth, his eyes closed tightly. “Though, the healers have no saying for when sleep returns the injured to their dungeons.”

            “No, they do not have spells for such things.” Thor nodded and made to leave.

            “You may stay if you would like.” It was a balm, which Thor eagerly accepted. Sitting once more on the spindly stool, Loki grinned as it groaned in protest his brother’s massive weight.


	2. 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The truth can turn even the sweetest of hearts cold.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There could be some triggers in this chapter. I want anyone reading this to be aware.

Loki lay uncomfortably on Emerson’s stiff mattress. His body curled in a tight ball, much like dog cringing away from a boot. He was deeply asleep; his lips parted letting air pass through with barely a whisper. Emerson typed furiously on her laptop, an old barely functioning thing her mother had been about to dump on some unsuspecting resale shop. She was working on a novel she had spent all night talking about with Loki. He had not seemed so interested in her retro sci-fi concept as she thought he would be, his eyes a little glazed over.  She wondered constantly what had happened to him all that time he had been away. It had been weeks now, it seemed like ages and ages to her.   
            Dark circles framed his eyes and he was losing weight. She had taken to making plates of cookies and sneaking leftovers into her room at night so that she might tempt him into fattening up. Her mother had mentioned it once or twice, the strange missing food. There had been a fight about healthy eating habits and currently Emerson was not speaking to her parents or the nutritionist they had called in to help with her “eating disorder”. She was also grounded, because un-ceremoniously telling your mother “Fuck off they’re called boobs just because you don’t have any doesn’t mean they don’t exist”, isn’t really lady-like.

            Loki had been beside himself when she told him about the confrontation he had threatened her parents in six languages including the all tongue and Latin. Then he had once again offered to take her to Asgard and hide her in the palace. She had considered it seriously for a few days, Asgardian law be damned. Eventually she had decided against it for Loki’s sake. Emerson didn’t believe her on going feud with her parents was something that really needed to go universal, although with what Loki had told her about his childhood being the black sheep of the family transcended realms.

            He whined in his sleep pulling his arms tightly against his chest guarding himself against some unseen attacker. The whining changed pitch and frequency growing louder drawing Emerson’s attention away from her computer, he abruptly flung himself straight, back arched stiffly. The soft linen of his tunic lifted at his hips and Emerson’s eyes were drawn to the strip of skin now visible. It should have been pale and porcelain like his strong arms, but it was a dark blue blooming green and yellow near the dark trail of hair leading under the leather of his breeches.

            Emerson felt her eyes catch on the blackened line of bruising along his hipbones. He moaned startling Emerson. She pressed a hand against his chest gently caressing his cheek with the other trying to wake him without causing any more damage. She had known that he had been injured but this was so much worse than he had allowed her to believe. Hate flooded her chest hot and violent. She curled her body around his hoping that he could some how feel her presence in his sleep, that her affection could hold the nightmares at bay.

            Loki settled against the warmth at his side. The muscles tense in sleep relaxed as he began to awaken in the dull light of Emerson’s bedroom. She was wrapped lightly around him. Whispering softly to him, asking him to wake up, telling him that he wasn’t there anymore. When he finally opened his eyes he saw in her eyes what he had been so worried about; hate, the first glimmer of true violent hatred. It had settled so quickly in her eyes, as it had settled so easily in his heart some many years ago.

            “Who did this to you?” Even her voice sounded older, crusted over with the emotion. “Tell me.”

            “It doesn’t matter,” Loki brushed a riotous curl from her face, ignoring the screaming pain flooding his chest as he stretched his arm out. “I am alive. You are alive. That is all that matters.”

            “It matters, Loki.” Emerson sat up. “They hurt you. They…” She fell quiet gesturing to the patch of bruised skin now visible.

            “I will survive,” Loki’s eyes darkened, he never wanted to speak of the things they had done to him. “I will not give them the satisfaction of hurting you too. My body is once again my own and those barbarians have been dealt with, you need not worry over it.”

            “Did they…” She looked down at the battered strip of skin, her mouth tight. Her thoughts broadcast across her face. “Do you want to talk? I can listen. I am very good at listening.”

            “I am well aware of your excellent listening skills, my dear.” Loki looked up at the slowly rotating ceiling fan contemplating his next words. No matter what he said now he could not erase the marks that this new emotion would leave on her, so the truth would serve as well as any lie. “Thor asked for my help stopping a particularly bloody rebellion in one of the inner realms. He begged me actually, the loss of life and limb had grown to great for me to ignore the request. I obliged him. I was to infiltrate the enemy camp, create chaos and descent amongst the ranks.”

            “Chaos?” Emerson snorted humorlessly and Loki closed his eyes unable to continue looking at her.

            “I was discovered and taken hostage.” He opened one eye checking her face for distress. “As you can imagine finding an enemy prince in your camp is no small matter. They had me for weeks before Thor could arrange peace talks, beating me in the mornings before they would march into battle; A moral booster for their troupes. Have I ever told you about Thor’s temper?”

            There was silence for a moment, before Loki opened his eyes again squinting down his noise to see Emerson nodding her head.

            “Yes well I suppose it is legendary isn’t it.” Emerson nodded again and Loki settled back into the bed. “At the peace talks he lost his temper as anyone who had ever met my brother could have told you he would, and he killed one of the diplomats. Right there in the tent with everyone watching. That didn’t make things any better for me. After that they were relentless in their violence, only stopping to make sure I was not already dead, or unconscious. They would leave me alone for days without light or nourishment, only to bring scraps of food and the whip. Volstagg, I believe I have mentioned him before, he came for me one morning such a long time later and he finally brought out of that hellish place.”

            “Loki,” She looked as if she wished to embrace him, but thought batter of it. “Why are you not healing?”

            “I am,” Loki squinted at her once again. “They healers are doing what they can, but there is little to fixed without sleep, and when I close my eyes…”

            “Your there.” Emerson’s eyes were filled with darkness. “Are they dead?”

            “Some.”

            “Why not all?”

            “We couldn’t kill them all,” Loki grinned maliciously. “Not that Thor did not try, but genocide is not the answer. It will not bring peace, not lasting peace.”

            “But what about revenge? What about punishment?” Emerson looked lost. “What kind of justice do you get for what they did to you?”

            “Sometimes there is not justice,” Loki watched Emerson’s poster change. He felt as if he were seeing her youth peel off of her like a snake shedding its skin. “I am lucky to have been granted my life. I should be grateful for even that. Many were not so lucky.”

            Emerson stared out of the window of her room, the leaves of the great tree outside brushing against the window, thinking. Loki reached out grasping her hand in his, her palm so small.

            “Is that not more of a reason?” Loki titled his head questioningly; she watched his reflection in the windowpane. “To seek out justice. If not for you than for those other lives lost?”

            “Emerson,” She turned to face him looking at first to the place where their hands were joined and then reluctantly to his face. “You cannot stay so filled with hate. It is a burden not worth barring. Set it down.”

            “You need to eat more.”

            “Yes,” Loki smiled at her, a genuine smile this time. “And we both need to sleep. I am cold without you.”

            Emerson moved to his side pulling up a well-worn quilt with her. It was moments before they were both asleep, clinging to one another.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know it is getting a bit dark, but hey it gets darkest before the dawn, right?


	3. A Mother's Foresight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Somethings are have always been fated.

Frigga sat at her loom, carefully pulling threads back and forth through the great weave set before her. It was dark and lush thousands of delicate silk threads all in gem tones laying beautifully together in such opulence. The greens and gold’s twisted together in such a way that Frigga doubted even the most novice eye would not kenn its meaning. To Frigga, who had spent so much of her long life interpreting the messages of the norns, she saw clearly a girl. A wildling with more spirit than ten mortal life times could cleanse her of, she was reaching out with pale hands to a monster, her eyes gentle and full of love.

            The thread puckered at the hip of the giant and Frigga stopped gently maneuvering it until it lay perfectly against weave. Pausing with her hand over the thread she saw the girl as she was now, curled against a bruise and battered body. Loki slept peacefully realms away in the arms of a mortal girl. He held her as if he would break her with a single breath. There was an exquisite kind of sadness that followed the vision, she had always known that there would be a payment to be made for the secret she and Odin had kept from Loki all this time, she had seen long ago in a tapestry hung well in the back of her weaving room.

            A great broken world and a fissure between a father and his sons, the cost of deceit was tenfold for kings. She had also seen this girl, the one with such spirit mangled, fighting to get back to her home. There was nothing to be done now. At least they would know happiness, if only for a short while. Perhaps that happiness could be enough to satisfy the girl, mortal lives were so fleeting.

            The first rays of morning light shown through the window, gleaming off another tapestry, already cast off of the loom. It sparkled red and gold and filled the room with glorious warmth, these two where meant to hang together. Any novice could see it in the twin patterns twisting at the edges. Frigga set the thread aside and looking gracefully out the window where the bifrost stood solemnly against the edge of their realm, she could feel Heimdals watchful eyes. They all could use some rest for now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it has taken me so long to post. I know where the story is going, but I am trying to make sure it makes since when it gets there. Thank everyone who has been leaving kudos I really appreciate it.


	4. Age before Beauty

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Loki catches Emerson in a moment of doubt.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter deals with body image issues so please be warned.

Emerson stood in front of her mother’s floor length mirror, it was a great hulking monstrosity with a thick black frame. Her parents were on yet another “business retreat”, like that excuse really worked on her anymore. At least she could stay on her own now instead of being sent off to her decrepit great aunt’s house with her thousand cats and horrible little figurines that were never to be touched. So here she stood in her black cotton panties, turning this way and that, assessing the changes in her body. Her mother was tall and statuesque, her father muscular, nothing like the generous hips and ample bosom with which she was blessed.   
Staring at the slight rounding of her stomach she felt like crying, her mother had told her she should eat less, exercise more, she wished now that she had listened or that she had been born with her mother’s waif figure, that she had the same toned arms. Her body felt rotund by comparison. She cupped her breasts, they filled her palms (larger than her mother’s already) and they were sure to get bigger as she matured. She huffed in disappointment. Slumping she let go of her breasts, She wondered idly if the Lady Sif had ever spared a thought as to what she looked like. It was shallow she knew, but whenever Loki had spoken of the warrior his eyes had always shone with something Emerson suspected was lust.   
Jealousy was not an emotion that she was used too, she wasn’t even sure a person could be jealous of someone they had never met. The look in Loki’s eyes when he spoke about Lady Sif made her heart drop to her feet. Her eyes trailed down her pale legs, wishing they would grow longer, that she could compare to Loki’s warrior goddess. Ruffling her short curls she groaned at her reflection annoyed at her own insecurities, she threw on a silky green tunic Loki had brought her. At least it didn’t pull across her breasts.   
Loki found her like that, standing in his old tunic in front of that awful mirror. He was struck once again by how quickly she was aging, his jaw tightened. Too soon she would be grown and searching for someone to start her own family with, someone new, someone with whom he would have to share his friend. He scratched at the newly formed scar on his left pectoral in the vain hope that is would stem the burning spreading across his chest; Loki recognized jealousy instantly, it was an old companion. It was unrealistic to believe she would always be his, it was unfair to hide such an incredible young mortal away from her own world. He couldn’t keep dragging her down his secret pathways and expect that she would flourish in her own world. As much as he was loathed to admit it, even he had needed the companionship of his peers, and alas so did she. He had always known this was coming, but it felt too soon, just as Thor had warned him.   
Hate built up quite suddenly within him. He hated her mortality and those wasted months he had spent being tortured and the weeks unable to leave the healing rooms. It bubbled and seethed, stretching against his skin, begging to get out. He bit down on his tongue until he tasted blood and swallowed it down.   
“You look lovely,” His voice sounded strained. Emerson spun quickly around to look at him, her face red. “I didn’t mean to embarrass you. I left the feast early and hoped I might see you.”  
“No not embarrassed,” Emerson looked back at the mirror, looking at her legs. “I just… Its just a silly.”  
“Doubtful,” Loki stood behind her placing his hands gently on her shoulders. “Tell me. Please.”  
“I’m not,” Emerson looked back into the mirror, avoiding comparing Loki’s tall muscular frame to her short chubby one. “I’m not beautiful like you. Well obviously, but not like my mother, not tall and thin. You have all of these muscles and what have I got? Just fat.”  
Loki stood there stunned as she pulled at the tunic trying to make it cover even more of her legs. Of all of the topics they had covered in their many adventures together, never once had she spoken about feeling less than the glorious creature she was and he told her so.  
“Emerson,” Loki stood behind her. “All of you is perfect. I have never seen a more glorious or kind individual in all of my long life, and I am beginning to believe that I never will have the honor of meeting another with such beauty or light. You are resplendent.”  
Emerson couldn’t stop the tears from running down her face. She felt a crushing embarrassment weighing down on her heart. When Loki stood their watching her with such admiration in his eyes, how could she give in to such pathetic, such menial, such a mortal emotions. Loki hugged her to his chest and the torc around her neck warmed reassuringly.  
“I’m sorry,” She hung her head, hoping vainly to hide her face from the man behind her. “I know this isn’t why you come here, to see some little girl cry on your shoulder about her tiny problems. Not when you have been through so much, not when…”  
“Shhhh,” Loki walked her back to the bench, sitting with Emerson folded into his lap. She was a warm weight settling against his chest, he could feel her sadness as well as he had ever felt his own. “Suffering is not a competition. How much or how long I have suffered does not diminish what you feel now. What matters is only that I can share the burden with you and you with me. Perhaps it was unfair of me to ask you to, but you are my only true confidant. Not even my own brother, my flesh and blood, knows me as well.”  
“I don’t like it,” she leaned into his embrace.  
“Suffering?” Loki chuckled into her ear when she nodded. “I do not believe that any creature is intended to enjoy suffering.”

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry it took so long for this one to get out. I was just really stuck. Please leave your comments and let me know what you think. Thanks!


End file.
